The Riddle of Glengarney House
by Samixa
Summary: Victorian AU, RL/SB slash. Remus Lupin is newest in a long line of tutors to serve at Glengarney House. Owned by the erratic Sirius Black, both the house and its owner have many hidden secrets. Will Remus discover the truth behind the rumours?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story was born of a winter spent reading a lot of Dickens, Waugh and many Sherlock Holmes stories. Needless to say stories of upper class, English families with dark secrets have been brewing in my imagination. Enjoy.**

1.

The hansom cab bounced furiously as it made its way down the stony country lane. Inside the carriage, Remus Lupin clung onto the door handle to avoid being jolted out of his seat. Feeling nauseous and slightly irritable due to the slow progress they were making, he slid open the carriage window and hailed the coach-driver.

"My good man, how much longer do you suppose the journey will last?" Remus called, raising his voice above the clip-clop of the horse's hooves.

"I reckon we're about 'alf a' mile away now, guv'nor," the affable cabbie replied whilst tugging at the horse's reins to quicken the pace. "You should be able to see Glengarney House once we're past them trees there."

"Thank you," Remus replied. He left the window slightly ajar and felt the cool country air brush past his cheeks. It was such a pleasant change to breathe in fresh, clean air; far easier on the lungs than the smoky, squalid air of London. At least the surroundings of Glengarney House were picturesque, Remus thought to himself, even if the reputation of the house's owner was rather murky.

The previous morning, Remus had received an owl from Marston's Tutoring Agency, which demanded his immediate presence in their office. Not that this was anything unusual; making what little money he could from tutoring, Remus was well used to being called to the agency every week or so to be looked over by a potential employer. In most cases, Remus was not offered the position; when the potential employer saw the state of his robes (perpetually ingrained with the grime of the London streets, despite his best efforts) and his unkempt, often beleaguered appearance the employers decided that 'yes, perhaps it _would _be best to employ a female tutor, after all it is the common practice'.

So when Remus arrived at the tutoring agency's offices, at the narrow end of Diagon Alley, he was well prepared for yet another failure. He hurried up the creaking flight of stairs to the manageress's office, making an attempt to comb his hair with his fingers and hoping that the fatigue that had followed last week's full-moon was not still showing on his face.

"You're late, Lupin," snapped Miss Marston, as Remus entered the small office. Miss Marston was an imperious, heavyset witch who always sported an elaborately tall wig, which in Remus's opinion made her look as though she was trying to balance a collection of ugly, misshapen fruit upon her head. Hovering just behind Miss Marston's chair was Mr Wickers, her spiteful assistant.

"I see you've made your usual half-hearted attempt at sprucing up your appearance, Lupin," Wikers sneered, as Lupin took his usual seat in front of Miss Marston's desk.

"I am sorry I am late," Remus said, doing his best to keep his temper cool. "This office is, as I am sure you know, quite a distance from my neighbourhood but I came as quick as I could."

"Tardiness is not a reputation I want for my tutors," Miss Marston said in her deep voice, "but that is not what I want to discuss today, Lupin. We have had a request for your services."

Remus was not sure he had heard that correctly, "A – a request? For _my _services? From whom?"

"From Sirius Black, from the Black family of Glengarney Estate," Miss Marston replied, her wig wobbling as she spoke. "You are aware of the Blacks, I presume?"

Remus nodded. The Black family had a notorious reputation, and Remus doubted whether there would be anyone in London wizarding society who had not heard of them. Immeasurably wealthy and with a history of scandal and insanity dating back to the Dark Ages, members of the Black family regularly appeared in the gossip columns of the _Daily Prophet. _The current generation of the family were no less infamous than their ancestors. Orion Black, the patriarch, had earned himself a reputation for dabbling in just about every excess imaginable – alcohol, infidelity and gambling to name but a few. It was rumoured that Orion Black had inherited the madness that ran in the family, when two years ago he disappeared after murdering one of his own servants. His body was discovered in northern Siberia some six months later. Walburga Black, his wife, passed away shortly after.

Orion and Walburga had two sons. Regulus, the youngest, was a renowned magical lawyer and philanthropist, leading many to believe that he would become the next chief of the Wizengamot. But that was not to say that Orion and Walburga's sons had managed to shake of the family's black reputation, for Sirius, their eldest son, was the most notorious of all. He had been jailed twelve years ago for the heinous slaughter of his best friend James Potter and his young wife, Lily. It was said that Black had murdered them due to lovers' jealously, and that he had been having an affair with Lily Potter. Sirius had been released from Azkaban the previous year, amid much public outcry, having been cleared of all charges due to what the _Daily Prophet_ termed as a 'legal technicality'. But why on earth the new head of the Black family required a tutor, Remus had no idea.

"I did not know Mr Black had children," he said, trying to cover some of his surprise.

"With that family, I'm surprised that it's just the one illegitimate child that's crawled out of the woodwork," said Miss Marston haughtily as Wickers nodded smugly behind her. "However, the child he wants you to tutor is a young man of fourteen years, name of Harold."

The meeting continued in much the same tone. Miss Marston impressed upon Remus that under no circumstances was he to bring shame on the agency. No one had lasted in the Black service for more than a year, and Mr Black thought someone of stronger stature was needed, _not _a lady.

"You fit the bill, Lupin," Miss Marston conceeded, "even though it looks like a strong wind could finish you off."

Remus ignored the jibe. Any one of the facts about the Black family's history would be enough to put even the most hard-hearted tutor off, but Remus knew he had to take what he could get. Having been sacked from six tutoring positions in the last two years, he was extremely surprised – as was Miss Marston – that Black had selected his application over everyone else registered with the agency.

He had agreed to take up the position, and signed the contract Miss Marston had drawn up. Having once again been impressed upon the importance of upholding the agency's reputation, Remus had left the office to gather his meagre belongings and leave for Glengarney House, some thirty miles out from the city, the next morning.

As the carriage drew level with the copse of trees the cabbie had pointed out, they passed a sign at the roadside declaring that they were now within the grounds of Glengarney Estate and that any trespassers would be cursed. Entering through a set of imposing wrought iron gates Remus saw a dilapidated farm house at the edge of the estate. Two red headed boys glowered at the carriage as it passed, shovels in their hands.

The carriage trundled down the gravel drive and Remus got his first glimpse at the stately manor house. There was no getting past the fact that Glengarney had a formidable appearance; numerous chimneys rose like spires from brickwork that was blackened from damp and age. The front of the house was shrouded in shadow, despite the afternoon sunshine. As he drew closer Remus saw that the grand house had in fact fallen into a state of abject disrepair; weeds sprouted from gaps in the brickwork and the east wing of the house appeared to be subsiding under its own weight. Another red-headed youngster was lugging riding equipment across the yard into a nearby stable. Remus climbed out of the carriage, collected his battered suitcase and paid the cabbie his fare. With a brief wave of farewell, Remus watched the carriage trundle back up the drive the way it had come.

Remus shot a glance over to the red-headed farmhand, who had stopped his work to stare at the newcomer. He had the same dejected manner as the two boys by the gate, and Remus wondered vaguely why he wasn't using magic to move the heavy equipment. He waited a few moments, expecting the farmhand to make some sort of introduction and show him into the house, but it became clear that such a welcome was not forthcoming. Feeling slightly miffed, Remus walked up to the massive oak front door and used the silver knocker – shaped like a serpent – to announce his arrival. He heard the knocks echo loudly throughout the house.

He was just beginning to think that he had become part of some elaborate hoax, or that Black was indeed as mad as everyone said, when he heard a window being wrenched open above him. Paint and lint cascaded down onto him as a young boy with a shock of untidy black hair stuck his head out of the window to peer down at him.

"Sorry! Please, come inside and I'll be right down to meet you, the door should be unlocked." the boy called.

Feeling a tad apprehensive, Remus gently pushed against the door which opened with an ominous creaking sound. He stepped into what surely must once have been a grand entrance hall. A wide sweeping staircase in front of him led up to upper floors, the wooden banisters speckled with holes from woodworm. There were damp patches on the ceiling and the wall-paper had peeled away from the walls in some places. A rattling sound behind the skirting board indicated Remus had just disturbed a Doxy nest or, possibly, rats. The heavy drapes were closed to the afternoon sunshine and a deep gloom pervaded the hall.

Remus heard the thudding of footsteps from the landing above him and the young boy appeared at the top of the staircase, He bounded down to Remus, eyes bright and face alight with happiness. The contrast was so stark when compared to the gloominess of the house; it was like a bright and happy spirit living in a dead, decaying shell.

"You must be Harold, I presume," said Remus as the boy stopped in front of him.

"Yes, I am," he shook Remus's hand. "And you must be Professor Lupin. I'm apologise for not meeting your coach, but I didn't hear it come down the drive and Sirius is still asleep."

Remus checked his watch; it was 3.30 in the afternoon. "Is your godfather sick?"

The boy laughed. "Oh no – he just keeps unusual hours, that's all. You can leave your bag here, Kreacher will bring it up for you. Shall I show you to your room?"

"Yes, please do Harold," said Remus.

"Oh, call me Harry," he said as they climbed the stairs. "Nobody ever calls me Harold."

"Harry it is then."

* * *

His rooms were surprisingly bright and airy. The sharp smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air, and the large double bed, made up with fresh linen, looked most inviting. Relief swept through Remus, he was half expecting to be kept in something akin to a dungeon. His feelings must have shown on his face for Harry gave him a smile and said, "Me and Ron, on of the farm workers, helped clean it up a bit for you."

"Thank you, Harry. This is most agreeable," said Remus, taking off his hat and outer coat, draping them across his desk chair.

Harry looked proud of himself. "We take our evening meal at six thirty in the dining room – you are welcome to join us."

"Thank you again, Harry, but I think it's best if I just take my meals in the kitchen. I wouldn't want to presume myself above my station."

"I do not think Sirius would have a problem with it, but if it suits you."

Harry then showed Remus quickly around the rest of Glengarney House. There were countless portraits lining every corridor and room; generations of long dead Blacks presiding over their domain. They all had the same chiselled nose and high cheekbones, Remus noticed. One large portrait outside the library was covered by thick green-velvet curtains that trailed across the floor, as he passed Remus thought he heard the occupant snoring. Lastly, Harry showed Remus the door that lead down to the basement kitchen an left him to procure some supper, having arranged to meet for lessons at nine o'clock the following morning.

Remus took the steep, narrow staircase down into the kitchen. It was warm and bright in here. An array of highly polished copper pots were hanging from hooks along one wall, and a scrubbed wooden table ran the length of the room. Over by the sink, hand washing a pile of dirty plates was a plump red-headed woman. She stopped what she was doing as Remus entered and introduced himself.

"I am Molly Weasley," she said, not accepting Remus's outstretched hand. "And forgive me if I forget your name, but tutors come and go so often from this goddamn house that it's hardly worth my time to remember all the names." She gave Remus a once-over taking in his threadbare robes and tired appearance. "I can't say I'm holding out much hope for you lasting either, no offence, dear."

Feeling rather affronted Remus grudgingly accepted the ham sandwich and goblet of ale Mrs Weasley fixed for him. He ate quickly, not feeling welcome in the small kitchen. He excused himself as politely as he could and headed back up to his rooms.

It did not take him long to unpack his small collection of possessions from the suitcase that had been brought up to his room. Feeling that he would rather get into bed at that moment, so as not to dwell any longer on the curious situation he had found himself in, Remus began to retire for the evening. He had just pulled his frayed nightshirt from the wardrobe when there came a knock at the door. He did not have time to reply before it opened and an old, wizened house elf entered the room.

The elf looked at Remus with a disdainful sneer on its sour face.

"The master would like to speak with you in the library, _immediately_."

_To be continued...._


	2. Chapter 2

**Note**: I am so glad to have time to work on this story again. It has been brewing in my mind for some time. Enjoy!

2.

Remus followed the ill-mannered elf along the unlit passage, taking so many turns that he quickly became disorientated, lost in the labyrinthine house. Eventually, the elf came to a halt and swung open one of the oak doors lining the corridor.

"The tutor, as you wished, master," said the elf grudgingly, stepping into the dimly lit room and beckoning Remus to follow him.

For a moment Remus was sure the elf had shown him to the wrong room. The fire in the grate had died down to a few glowing embers, and the room had a cloying smell of mould and decay. He was just about to suggest to the elf that they try a different room when a low voice from the shadows spoke.

"That will be all, Kreacher. Close the door behind you, and if I catch you listening in I will kick you from here to Kingdom Come."

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, Remus suddenly saw a tall, thin figure sitting in a high backed leather armchair staring into the fire's dying embers. At first, Remus was struck by Black's handsome features – delicate, narrow nose, high cheekbones – but when his new employer turned to fully face him, Remus saw that, like the view of the house, its master was also shown to be a wreck upon closer inspection. Black had large dark circles surrounding his dull, deadened eyes and his once clearly athletic body was emaciated. There was a distinctly vampirish quality to him as he sat in the darkened room.

Black indicated that Remus should take the chair across from him, simultaneously re-igniting the fire. The light revealed that they were in fact in a library – the walls were lined with books from floor to ceiling. Remus felt a small thrill run through him; there were more books in here than one could hope to acquire in a lifetime.

Black had noticed Remus's expression. "Do not get your hopes up – most of the books in here are so full of dark magic that they will burn your eyes out if you are not careful," his voice was low and gravelly as though it had fallen out of regular use. "Have you been shown to your room yet, Lupin?"

"Yes, I have," Remus said, rather taken aback by Black's abrupt manner. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Black.

Black's cold eyes flitted to his and Remus caught the scorn in his expression. It was clear that Black was not one to put up with the pretence and social conventions that usually governed interaction between an employer and his employee.

"What do you drink, Lupin?"

Remus sensed that his answer to the question would inform Black's opinion of him far more than any amount of small talk would.

"Firewhisky, please," Remus replied.

The corner of Black's mouth twitched up – he looked positively sinister. "Good man. I cannot abide those who are unable to handle a strong drink."

Flicking his wand casually, Black conjured two crystal tumblers of amber liquid from thin air. Remus took a sip and felt the alcohol scorch his throat, settling warmly in his belly. Black, no stranger around alcohol it seemed, finished his glass in a single gulp and promptly refilled it.

"I shall not lie to you, Lupin," he grey eyes fixing on Remus, "you are the seventh person to fill the position of tutor here in the last six months alone. Your most recent predecessor did not even make it through one week. Now, your most unsavoury agent has assured me that _you_ are better suited to a position of this... _character_."

"Well, I am no stranger to the rougher aspect of life," Remus assured him.

Giving Remus a quick once over, Black scoffed. "I do not doubt that."

Remus felt a surge of irritation – he had the distinct impression that Black was mocking him.

Black met his eyes with a challenging expression and continued: "I am sure I do not need to inform you about the circumstances that led me to my present situation, the newspapers covered that quite extensively if I remember correctly?" Remus shifted guiltily in his seat. "But, whatever my past wrongdoings may have been, and whatever opinions you may have formed of me or my family, I want you to give my godson a fair and decent education. He is innocent of my family's crimes, and I trust you to remember that."

He nodded fervently; Black had a way of speaking about his past that made _Remus_ feel guilty.

"I shall leave it to yourself and Harry to sort out the details of what material you will cover. I have no preference, as long as all the traditional academic grounds are covered."

"As you wish, sir," said Remus. "I have already arranged with Harry to begin at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

Black pulled a face. "A ridiculously early hour to be awake." Though Remus got the feeling that this time Black was being self-deprecating rather than criticising.

A brief silence fell as Black poured his third Firewhisky. Clearing his throat, he fixed Remus with a shrewd expression.

"Why is it that you are not a schoolmaster, Lupin? The position of tutor is usually reserved for young ladies, is it not?

It was not the first time Remus had been faced with this question. "I prefer teaching on an individual basis, the classroom holds no appeal to me."

"Well, not that it bothers me too much, but what exactly _are_ your qualifications? Miss Marstle was reluctant to say."

Remus froze; what could he say – _I was cast out by my parents after I was bitten by a werewolf, and have since had no formal education. _

"I followed an alternative academic route," he said lamely, avoiding Black's eye.

There was no doubt about it now, Black was openly laughing at him.

"Well, well, well an unqualified tutor. Just what is the world of private education coming to? Why did you not attend Hogwarts?"

Remus bit back his anger. "If you please, I would rather not discuss that."

Black sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "Very well, Lupin, we will leave it there for tonight but do not suppose I have finished this line of questioning. My godson has already, no doubt, informed you that I do not keep regular hours, but I may see you tomorrow evening."

"Of course, sir," Remus said with as much politeness as he could muster. He could not have truthfully said that he was at all fond of his new master. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Lupin," Black said, dismissing Remus with a wide smile that made him feel even more unnerved than he already was.

* * *

Remus's first lesson with Harry the following day passed much more amicably. It was clear that the constant change of tutors had restricted the boy's knowledge to only the most basic spells, though it was clear to Remus that Harry had a natural talent that would allow for fast progress. With a lesson plan for the next two weeks drawn up, Remus began by teaching Harry a simple levitation charm. It was a delight to watch the his happiness as he managed to raise his quill a few inches off the desk.

The boy's enthusiasm more than made up for the sneering manner of his godfather.

Later that afternoon, having dismissed Harry for the day with a substantial amount of homework, Remus took a stroll around the grounds of Glengarney. It was twenty-five days until the next full moon and Remus was anxious that he find somewhere safe and suitable for him to transform as soon as possible.

He walked past the Weasley farmhouse at the edge of the grounds. Two of the clan were standing in the garden watching him, sullen expressions on their faces. Remus wondered what tragedy could have befallen the family to make them so miserable as he headed towards the thick woods bordering the western edge of the grounds. There was a faint footpath visible through the overgrowth and Remus followed it through the thicket. He kept looking over his shoulder; he had the unsettling sensation that someone was following him. After twenty minutes, Remus reached what he had been hoping for: a small, dilapidated outhouse stood before him. It must have been a used to store grain when the land around Glengarney was still widely farmed, but like everything else nearby it was in a very sorry state. Though it was nothing a few hours work couldn't put right.

Suddenly, Remus heard a twig snap loudly behind him and he whirled around to see a small red-headed girl stare up at him, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry, sir!" she cried quickly, as though she was expecting Remus to punish her. "I saw you go into the woods and I thought I'd try and follow you – Bill told me that in America there are natives that can walk through forest without making a sound and I thought I'd try it and–"

Remus held up his hand to stop her flow of nervous babble. "It is not a problem, I am not angry with you," he said, smiling at her kindly. "What is your name?"

"Ginny, sir. Ginny Weasley. Are you Master Harry's new tutor?"

"Yes, I am, my name is Mr Lupin."

Ginny looked him up and down, as though sizing him up. "I think you'll last longer than the others. The last one was scared of _spiders_–" she pulled a face to indicate that she regarded such a fear to be ludicrous, "– she had Ron 'n' me sweep out her room. Got in a right state, she did."

Remus chuckled at the little girl's feisty manner.

"Does anyone ever use this building?" he asked her, indicating the outhouse.

"No," she replied, puzzled. "I think Fred and George used to play there sometimes, but it smells foul in there and we never play there anymore. _Why_?"

"Oh, just curious," Remus replied lightly, turning back up the path. "Shall we head back, it is getting dark."

As they walked back, Remus questioned Ginny about her family. He was intent to learn more about the sullen Weasleys. Ginny informed him that she was the youngest of the children, with six older brothers. The eldest brother, Bill, had left home last year following the sudden death of their father. Bill worked in London for Gringotts Bank, a position Mr Black had helped him attain, and sent money back to the family. The Weasleys were desperate to move away from Glengarney and were saving up money from Bill and Mrs Weasley's jobs.

They reached the cottage gate and exchanged goodbyes. Remus watched as Ginny skipped into the house, reflecting how strange it was that both she and Harry were so happy in homes appeared saturated with misery.

* * *

Later that night, hours after he had departed for bed, Remus remained awake, tossing in his bed restlessly. Sleep would not come to him. The sudden creaks and moans of the old house kept Remus's nerves up and his thoughts racing. He could not get the image of Black smiling at their last meeting out of his head. He had appeared transformed, somehow younger and energetic... handsome, one might say.

_No._

Remus sat up in bed. He would not entertain his mind with such thoughts: he knew they were immoral and he had resolved to sin no more.

This house had unsettled him most thoroughly.

He had just decided to go to the kitchen for some more tea, when he heard a thunderous galloping coming down the corridor outside. It sounded like a large animal – he could hear it panting as it passed by his door – but by the time Remus freed himself from the tangle of bedsheets and opened his door the corridor was silent and empty once more.

"No wonder nobody has lasted long here," Remus thought to himself, sliding the iron bolt securely across his bedroom door.


End file.
